Already Won That
by unknown20troper
Summary: Norm thought his heart'd learn a thing after his ex sold his lamp. But nope... Norm/Crocker, Norm/Birkenbake; inspired by LadyEsca's Going Our Different Ways. Oneshot. Slash.


_**Already Won That**_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Fairly OddParents_.

**Pairing(s):** Norm/Birkenbake, Norm/Crocker

**Rating: **T

**Warnings: **swearing, references to sex

**Summary: **Norm thought his heart'd learn a thing after his ex sold his lamp. But nope...

**Author's Note: **Fic inspired by **LadyEsca**'s _Going Our Different Ways_. Title derived from _I Won't Say I'm in Love _from _Hercules_. On another note, if this fic's continuity doesn't match up with my other fics, that's kinda deliberate. Not in the AU sense. In the "Norm has a multiple choice past because I have many headcanons about him that I want to explore" sense.

* * *

Norm was not happy. Not happy at all. Which, he had to admit, was pretty typical for him. Though the cause of his ire usually wasn't a human pizza guy. And he had had an about three-decade reprieve from it, so...

"Norm here. Callin' cause you guys forgot my pizza... Jeez, guys, do your jobs, alright? Isn't that the least I can ask of ya?"

He then felt a familiar tug, and his breath caught in his throat for a moment as the lamp forced him up out of it.

He regained his focus fairly quickly, and continued on. "Listen, I ordered that pizza hours ago. Yes. One large anchovy to the lava lamp beside the crazy guy in Canada." Then, he recalled why he was outside of his lamp in the first place, and got out a card. "Oh, hang on a second. Hello... insert human's name here."

Which, Norm reckoned, likely was 'Denzel Quincy Crocker' or 'Albert Quincy Bitterroot,' after he managed to get a good look at him. The former, most likely, since his house looked different than where he had seen Bitterroot last - it had dark green walls and a bed of a similar shade, a wooden floor, tons of knickknacks and papers strewn about, and a downright archaic computer. So, Crocker... or some other relative he hadn't heard of.

He snapped his fingers, GONGing up a neon sign. "I'm the all-powerful genie... Norm! And you..."

The man took him by surprise, and finished it off, spasming around in the room in various uncomfortable positions - for both him and Norm - while he did it. "...Have been waiting for this my whole life! For releasing you from the bottle I get three magical wishes. Which I can use to prove, once and for all, that Timmy Turner has... FAIRLY GODPARENTS!"

_An idiot human was... actually right about something? Well, what were the chances of that? _A traitor part of him answered, '_not that low. Forgot about Shake-and-Bake, already, did ya?_.' _And..._

Norm dived down to the man's level. "Wait, wait a minute. Did you say Timmy Turner?"

"Timmy Turner?" The man repeated. "He's..."

They finished it off together, grinning widely. "My mortal enemy!"

Norm felt his heart lurch, and a blissful feeling spread through him. He hadn't been in such unison with anybody in a while. Not since before he'd been forced back into his lamp by his... his... His, what? Ex, he supposed, but if he continued in that vein, well, he'd be getting drunk in his lamp and pretending it was a party again in no time. Or rather, as soon as Crocker was done with his big, stupid second wish. Or all his wishes.

Crocker then continued on talking. "Just think, Norm! With my brains and your magic and my brains, nothing can stop us from destroying Turner, once and for all." He then laughed.

Norm's heart lifted again. A partnership. Rare. He liked that - the omission of his own brains less so, though. And his thoughts then spiraled right back into the black hole of his loss. Trying to fight it, he quipped, "This is just a guess, mind you, but... have you forgotten to take any medications today?"

_**1969**_

_Norm funneled out of the lamp, accidentally dropping his DFC-style chicken wing on his new master's floor as he did so._ Well, _he thought, smirking._ I've been here barely a second and I've already messed up their life a bit. I like that. But... losing my chicken? Ah, not so damn much.

_His master, a scraggly redhead of about sixteen, pushed on the dropped wing with his sandaled feet. "Hey, genie-man, five second rule, remember?"_

_Norm frowned. "Five second rule? The fuck is the five second rule? I don't got no damn rules."_

_The redhead tried to suppress a giggle. "You can eat food that's on the ground if it's only been there for five seconds, man. Too bad those seconds have passed by now..."_

_Norm let out a noise of disgust. "Seriously, dude? Seriously? That's just gross... No wonder you guys got the Black Plague and all that other shit."_

"_Well, look who's bourgeois..." drawled the human._

_Norm laughed until his breath caught. "Bourgeois? Me? I wish. 'Cause you know what, pal? I'm just a genie in a lamp, forced to grant the wishes of countless damn humans, not able to choose what to do with my life. I just happen to care about not eating dirty things. And these fine duds? I didn't buy them. I GONGed them up."_

_The human bit his lip. "Oh, yeah, man. I get it now. Didn't mean to offend ya, bro. Anyway, name's Barry Birkenbake. What's yours, genie-man?"_

"_Norm," he answered. "The all-powerful genie. And you've got three wishes!"_

_Barry laughed. "That name of yours better be ironic. Me and the establishment are... not friends."_

_Norm looked around, seeing evidence of that all around his room: posters protesting the Vietnam War, "Free Love" scrawled on every corner of the wall a human boy'd be able to reach, peace signs, bright colours, silly smiley faces, tie-dyed shirts spread haphazardly across the floor..._

_He grinned at Barry, his eyes sparkling. "Trust me, Shake-and-Bake, it is."_

_Barry smiled back. "Yeah, man. I believe I do."_

"So, whaddya wanna do, Crockpot? I'm kinda bored right now, not being able to defeat Turner yet and all." Norm groaned. "Like, seriously, I'm desperate for entertainment right now... You can even spazz the fuck out if you want..."

Crocker grinned widely, almost maniacally. "I can show you my previous schemes for capturing Timmy Turner's... FAIRY GODPARENTS!"

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'd be up for that," Norm replied, fantasizing about the intricate, adaptable, and imaginative plans he was sure to see.

Crocker quickly pushed him down in the chair in front of the computer, and pulled up the files for Norm, asking the genie to close his eyes for a minute while he typed in the password for their folder. He did so, sighing.

"There they are, Norm! Fantastic, aren't they?"

Fantastic... was not the word Norm would have chosen. The plans tended to each possess a maximum of two of the qualities he'd expected them all to have, and sometimes a minimum of zero of them. He frowned.

"Not really the best word to choose for a ton of failed schemes, you know..."

Crocker patted him on the back, his touch soft yet firm. "There, there, Norm. There, there. If I'd had you when I was orchestrating them, they'd have worked. I promise..."

Norm was about to speak up, and say that Crocker hadn't pointed out the right problem, but the man's hands on his back was surprisingly calming, making him feel a cozy sort of warmth. And his stomach was flipping crazily. He gulped.

_Oh no... Oh, holy fuck no... It can't be... It can't be... Not him. Not Birk's bugbear of a colleague..._

_**1969**_

"_Hey, man, I_ Dream of Jeannie's_ starting back up tonight!" Norm grinned brightly, arms slung across the back of the couch. "Wanna watch it with me?"_

"_Not if you spend the entire time swoonin' over Eden," Barry muttered. "Like, how am I supposed to hear the show when you're gasping and sighing and dirty-talking at her?"_

_The genie blushed a dark red. "You know I can't help it, man... When she goin' about bein' all damn hot on my screen and all..."_

"_But, don't you go and shag real dames, sometimes? You're definitely enough of a hunk to get any dame you want." His face reddened along with Norm's, making it match his hair._

"_Well, yeah, of course I do," Norm replied, laughing. "That doesn't make her less swoon worthy, though. And don't you hippies believe in not being embarrassed by this sex stuff?"_

"_You blushed first..." Barry whined, biting his lip. "Hypocrite..." _

"_Well, I'm not a hippie," Norm shot back, smirking. "So there. And come on, Shake-and-Bake, she's Barbara fucking Eden."_

"_Yeah, that's her name. So what?" Barry frowned. "I'm not into her."_

"_So, you're basically saying ya don't 'dream of Jeannie'?" Norm replied, a teasing laugh in his voice._

"_Not that genie, anyway," Barry muttered under his breath, his face flushing._

"_Okay..." Norm drawled out, his heart lurching. "Guess we should get off this topic then..."_

_Barry responded to that by retracting himself into an almost ball and blushing hard. He then managed to force out, "yes, please do, man..."_

"_Or even better: watch the episode. It's comin' on in a few minutes, you know..."_

_Barry sighed. "There's this thing that I've been wondering about. It's basically, man, how can you possibly take watching this show when, well... you've told me about your life back before me... Not much. Just enough for me to know that your life was never as... happy as Jeannie's."_

"_I guess it gives me hope. Or something. Bitter as it is..." Norm frowned. _Sometimes, lately, I think that hope really could be becomin' a reality. And I think I finally get why... The genie Shake-and-Bake dreams of better not be Shazzan, that's for sure... _finished his internal commentary._

Crocker seemed only to get crazier every minute. Every single fucking damn minute. Every second, if Norm was less generous with his estimates. Which, well, Norm had watched him deal with unruly students for a while, so it wasn't like nobody was driving him crazy. But it did make... hating - or at least, mildly disliking - him easier.

Never mind that, though. It had to stop.

"...with your little friend on this little-"

"Uh, Earth to Crackpot..." Norm broke in.

Crocker's attention snapped back at the pejorative. "Crocker."

"Whatever," Norm drawled, trying to tamp down on the burst of pity in his heart. Yeah, sure, he must've heard that insult a thousand times, but... that didn't stop Crocker from being richer than Birkenbake. Though when it came down to it, they were both in poverty... Crocker was just in a bit less poverty. "Besides my pizza, what are we waiting for? I'm an all-powerful genie, remember? Just make the wish and Turner is toast." He laughed evilly, GONGing up cards and burning them, banging his fist on Crocker's desk.

"Not so fast. Since you need my wish to activate your magic, I'm in charge around here."

_Whoo, wee, whaddya know? There goes the pity. Out the door, gone, hopefully never to reappear..._

Crocker walked over to his file cabinet, opened it, and began to riffle through it. "I've been plotting Turner's demise for years! We'll use one of my plans!" He quickly found the desired one and let out a delighted sound.

"Yeah, yeah, your other plans have worked out so well. Hey! Here's an idea! Why don't you wish Turner to some horrible lifeless place? Someplace like... MARS!"

Crocker turned out, however, to be rather like the Republican Party when it came to sensible suggestions. Ergo, he didn't think of any and was keen on shutting any and all of the ones that he heard down, all because of his silly delusions.

Norm sighed. _Are ya trying to make me stop pitying ya, Crockpot? 'Cause if you are, it's fuckin' working. And I don't like that as much as I should..._

"Ah, Norm, this is an outdoor plan," Crocker continued, pointing at the schoolyard outside one of the windows, his voice cold and pointed.

"Got it, crazy guy!"

Norm snapped his fingers, GONGing them onto the grass, providing Crocker with a table to lay out his plan on, as well.

He did so, declaring, "This is our plan. I call it 'Operation Smashing Failure!'" He then moved onto the wishes. "First, I wish I had three tons of concrete. Second, I wish I had two tons of steel girders and..."

"Hey, whoa, slow down there, Hunchback of Never Dated a Dame, that's two of your three wishes right there."

"Drat! And I can't use my last wish to wish for more wishes, can I?"

"Actually, yes, you can. You know, we tell everyone they can't, but really you can. We've been bluffin' for centuries," Norm answered, his voice squeezing up in the first two sentences, then turning smug in the last one, trying to ignore the voice in his head saying, _Wow, Norm, he's got you really fuckin' whipped, hasn't he? Gonna sit down and roll over for him, too? Or perhaps give him your Facebook password?_

"How deceitful! I like that in a genie! I wish I had three more wishes!"

Norm grinned, and snapped his fingers, granting Crocker's last three wishes. "You're not as crazy as you look. But then, you couldn't be."

"Next I wish for some dynamite! And three more wishes!"

Norm, in a GONG and a snap of his fingers, sat Crocker on top of a mountain of TNT, and gave him three wishes.

_**1970**_

_Barry bit his lip. "Uh, Norm."_

_The genie drifted down to him, and responded, "Yeah, Shake-and-Bake?"_

"_I've got a... wish," he answered. "My third wish. Like, a deliberate one. Not some 'thinking out loud' shit, like my first one." He laughed bitterly. "Never thought 'world peace' actually meant fuckin' _Brave New World_ shit. Goddamn, are we screwed or what?"_

_Norm sighed. "I told ya that that it was something people had to come to on their own. That is, if that's even _possible_. And that if people remain people, some of them'll still want to make war and do so. So, well... you know, people had to stop being people and become... Pixies, I guess... or robots. Robots. Pixies are obsessed with business, and not really that peaceful." _

"_The fuck, man? I thought they liked to dance..."_

_Norm broke out in a laughing fit. "Pixies... dancing... oh my god... like do you know how much cash you'd have to bribe them with for that? How much fucking cash?"_

"_Could _they_ secretly be The Man?"_

"_I dunno. But, pal, your wish?"_

_Barry took a deep breath. "Norm, I wish... fuck, I can't do it. Like, I know exactly what I want, but..."_

"_But what?"_

"_You know how wishes are, man..." He sighed. "And I know you'll have to skedaddle back into your lamp after it."_

"_Well, yeah, but..." Norm sighed. "It's not as though I expect anything different. I mean, unless..."_

"_Unless what?"_

"_Unless I tell ya this little secret my kind has been keeping for centuries," he whispered, winking, trying to restrain the tiny spark of fear inside him._

"_So, can you tell me it?"_

"_Alright. Here it is: you know, when I said ya got three wishes? I was kinda lying."_

_Barry threw a scorching glare at the genie, causing Norm's tail to wrap around his body like a shield._

"_Hey, hey, stop with the look, man! Anyway, the truth is, well, that you can wish for three more wishes, ad nauseam. 'Cause, well, I'm rule-free..."_

_Barry smiled softly at the genie. "Radical, man. Really radical. And I understand, kinda. Us humans were like The Man for ya, aren't they?"_

_Norm half-nodded._

"_I wish I had three more wishes, man..."_

"_Your wish is my command," Norm replied, winking, as he snapped his fingers, causing a GONG that seemed to produce nothing._

_Barry sighed in relief. "Now, I can say it..."_

Crocker, Norm discovered, was not an appreciator of historic French architecture. At least not when he compared it with his own plans. Which the genie did not think were extraordinary works of art. Like, seriously, two gigantic F's formed into an arch? Not even inscribed with at least one design?

But, truth was, Norm wasn't that infatuated with the art of the French either. It just wasn't his style. Even though he did prefer it, aesthetically, to his and Crocker's _Arc de Failure_.

"And I shall pry from his cold, nonliving hands his... FAIRY GODPARENTS!" Crocker exclaimed, ending off his rather unnecessary explanation with a series of spasms.

The genie then floated up to him, and pointed his hand in Crocker's direction, saying, his voice dry, "I bet that works on the ladies every time."

_Kinda - unironically - works on me, too. I bet it'd work on my shakes even better, though. _

Crocker declined to respond, and the two of them hurried behind the bush with the TNT lever.

Soon after that, Turner arrived. "The Timmy Turner Memorial! Cool! Finally, I'm being appreciated for all my hard work!"

The genie then caught a bit of Cosmo and Wanda's voices, but couldn't get what they were actually saying, and truth to tell, didn't really care.

Turner then picked up the note Crocker had insisted on leaving, and read it. ("Are ya trying to make me think you're wacko, Crockpot? What if he picks up on the hint and skedaddles the heck out of there?" "Norm, old buddy, old pal, our revenge needs a personal touch. It can't just be anybody's old revenge, you know..." "But 'anybody's old revenge' might actually work." "This'll work, too, Norm, just trust me.")

"Yes! Goodbye Turner!" repeated Crocker, in a tone much more frantic than the one Turner had used.

"I'm guessing you've got a big, wild social life, don't cha?" Norm drawled, as Crocker pressed down on the lever.

The _Arc de Failure_ split in two, and the left side began falling in the direction of the bush. Norm responded to that by GONGing away, leaving Crocker to be 'crushed with his own failure,' despite the uneasy feeling that put in his stomach.

Crocker then screamed, and the genie GONGed back to him. "So, let me guess, you wish all this stuff was gone. You wish all your bones weren't broken, and you're gonna wish for three more wishes."

The human groaned, and said, his voice muffled, "Make it so."

And so, Norm did.

_**1971**_

_Norm stumbled over his rarely-actually-existing feet, cursing colourfully in a more drawling drawl than his usual, his knees hitting the wooden panels of the bar's floor and his glass shattering into tons of pieces. He then took a deep breath, and tried to stand up, swaying a bit. Noticing Barry silently laughing about it, the genie tossed a glare and a "fuck you," back at him. Finally, he managed it, lifting himself from his quasi-kneeling position to a standing one with use of his hands, avoiding being stepped on by the other patrons of the establishment (of which there seemed to be a-fucking jillion). _

_Legs. He was so fuckin' done with legs. So fuckin' done. But not literally. How else could he go barhopping with Shake-and-Bake? Well, there was always Fairy World, but Norm was rather averse to dealing with its bullshit. And to exposing Barry to it._

_The crowd shifted, like a moving wall, blocking Barry from his sight, and the genie groaned. He felt himself begin to tip again, and grabbed the closest handhold available, disregarding that it was actually a person. Once he was sure that he obtained at least a modicum of stability, he loosened his hold, and continued walking._

_And there he was. Barry. Norm grinned widely and brightly. "Oh, there you are, se-Shake-and-Bake. Shake-and-Bake. That's it."_

"_Lost me, huh, man?"_

"_Yeah. It's these legs."_

"_But they're good legs, man..."_

"_Good to look at, maybe. For movin' around, well, I'd prefer a tail any day."_

_Barry blushed. "So, man, you're sayin' I've been looking?"_

"_Yeah, but it's okay. No one - dude, dame or whatever - can resist the Norm."_

"_That's the truth," Barry mumbled, going red yet again. "You hunk."_

_And Norm made a clumsy lunge towards him, his body vastly quicker than his thoughts, his hands then maneuvering under Barry's clothes and his lips to his mouth. "Yeah. Yeah. That thing you just said. You mean it, yeah? You wanna get fucked by me, yeah?"_

"_Yeah. Yeah, man. I want it. And to fuck you. Damn it, Norm, I just want you! Any way and every way!"_

_Norm smirked, thinking, _Guess he wasn't dreaming of Shazzan, after all. _"That's definitely arrangeable." _

"_Arrange it now. I wish-" Norm put his finger to Barry's lips, putting a premature end to the wish._

"_You don't need wishes for this, babe. Fact is, they're kinda a turn off."_

_Norm then replaced his finger with his mouth, and started to strip every single scrap of fabric off of them both, feeling a sense of bliss, which had tried its hardest to evade him before, it seemed._

Barry pursed his lips, squinting. Something was off. Something was not right. Crocker was smiling. Smiling. Just walking through the hallway to his next class, and smiling. Widely, as close to 'brightly' as he could ever approach, considering the rather sad condition of his teeth.

He knew that he shouldn't begrudge anyone their happiness, as long as it didn't result from anyone else's pain, but the sight of Crocker actually being happy for once poked and chafed and gnawed at him, driving him absolutely loco. And reminded him of how he was nowhere as happy as Crocker looked, though he used to be. Back when he could, back when he let himself, solve his problems with magic. When he had someone.

As he mused on it, his eyes picked up a familiar object in Crocker's pants' pocket. Norm's motherfucking lamp, with its entrancing purple lava (which was, by the way, particularly rad when he was high). Also with the said genie probably in it. Which shouldn't have surprised him, considering that Crocker had bought the lamp from him, on the day after he had given Norm up forever, but it did. It fuckin' did.

He seethed as he headed off to his next class, his footsteps pounding hard against the tiles. Crocker had no right. No fucking right. No right to take Norm and... get happiness from him. Crocker didn't deserve him. Didn't deserve magical help.

Like, oh sure, Barry didn't think he deserved it either, really, though he used to, but... fuck it, some things were worse, and/or more important, than his pride or lack of it. Some things like: Crocker with the power of a genie, Norm's happiness, being with the genie he loved...

And he burst into tears.

Norm found himself out of his lamp yet again once school had finished, and Crocker had his classroom to himself. Which was really quite nice. Certainly nicer than shivering on his divan as water fell through his leaky "roof" onto him. Not as good as... say, cuddling up with Croc-having his own superinsulated mansion would be, but better than that damn lamp.

"Okay, 'Operation Smashing Failure didn't go quite as I had planned," Crocker opened up with, trying to sound professional (though killing Timmy Turner was not really a career, of any sort), but betraying a bit of insecurity in his tone, making Norm's heart flip despite all the (at least fairly) rational comebacks that his head had produced about Crocker's plans.

"Which brings it back to this. MARS. Come on, imagine it. MARS. Turner's head exploding from lack of oxygen..." The genie accompanied his words with flagrant hand motions, then GONGed up a chocolate shake, which he nonchalantly passed to Crocker, having already guessed his most likely response.

"No! Turner must be destroyed here, so I can get control of his... FAIRY GODPARENTS!" Crocker spasmed, his hands on both ends of the glass, his vertical orientation reversing and then returning to normal.

When it finished, Norm took the shake, GONGed in a straw and cherry, and sipped it, his eyes going half-lidded from the pleasure of it. That, and how, in his Crocker-crazy mind, the straw morphed into Crocker's cock (or at least, what he thought it looked like), which really wasn't that different from one.

He extracted the straw from his mouth, and licked his lips. "Mmm. Just the way I like my shakes: spazzed, not stirred."

In response to that, Crocker's face pinkened slightly, and the hunch in his back seemed to increase. "Er, Norm, buddy, what are you looking at?"

"Ah, nothing... you're just the best at shakes, that's all." _Much as I hate to admit it._

Crocker grinned, showing most of his teeth. "I AM? I AM? Norm, CAN YOU GONG ME ONE SO I CAN TEST IT OUT FOR MYSELF?"

"Yeah, sure. Totally. You don't even need to ask. Infinite wishes, remember?" Norm replied, trying to sound detached and dry and critical of all the stupidity in the world, despite the leaping in his heart, as he snapped his fingers to GONG a shake into Crocker's hands. "And Turner has..."

"FAIRY GODPARENTS!" Crocker finished off, breaking into yet another spasm, while Norm looked on with an expression he hoped was condescing, not 'oh god, I'm gonna swoon, please send help because I fuckin' need it.'

Crocker then took a tentative sip of his shake, his expression becoming similar to Norm's half-lidded one and yet somewhat pensive. The genie tried to shut his eyes, tried to block the sight (and the phallic imagery it invoked) out, but something in him made it pretty much impossible.

"So, uh, Crockpot, whaddya think of chocolate shakes, Crocker-style?"

"I WANT ANOTHER!"

Norm laughed. "Uh, no, sorry, can't fill that request. You're crazy enough when you're not on a sugar high, thank you very much, and well, if our next plan's gonna have any chance of success, you have to be as sane as Crockerly possible. But... if we succeed, I'm definitely up for celebrating with chocolate shakes."

Crocker moved close to Norm in a flash, and encircled him in his arms. "AND SHRIMP PUFFS. CAN'T FORGET SHRIMP PUFFS"

"Yeah. Shrimp puffs, too. But perhaps, before the shakes..."

Crocker's response to that was clutching Norm harder, making it possible for the genie to feel every single rib of his through their clothes. The genie had to add more items to the Victory Day menu, that was for sure. Well, if Victory Day ever happened, of course. With Crocker, well, who knew...

_**1971**_

"_Man, that was intense," Barry strained out, between breaths, lying on his bed (which Norm had GONGed them to once he realized that bar sex, hot as it was, was also rather... inconvenient), nude and flushed and tousled._

_Norm, lying beside him, was just as much as a mess, but not as tired. "Intense? Yeah, sure was."_

_Barry didn't respond to that, just blushed harder and began to search out his clothes, making what Norm thought be an effort to avoid his gaze. _I bet Jeannie didn't get _this _when she and Tony first got it on. 'Cause well, she's Jeannie and I'm just _a_ genie. A pretty cool genie, but... not enough. Not enough to overcome the boundaries of genie and master with a few years of friendship and a quick fuck, that's for sure...

_Norm gulped. "Uh, hey, Shake-and-Bake, can I go and sort myself out?"_

_Barry frowned and muttered, "Oh, sure, man. Nothin' wrong with that. Nothin' at all."_

"_You sure, man?"_

"_Yeah, I'm sure, man. You didn't even need to ask me, actually..."_

_Norm smiled softly at him. "Thanks, Shake-and-Bake! So much."_

"_Uh, no need to thank me, either. Free movement's in your rights, you know..."_

"_You sure about that?"_

"_Well, yeah, 'course I am."_

_And so Norm left with a GONG, going off somewhere where he could think._

The desert air was soothing on Norm's tail and skin, and so, despite the stupidity of Crocker's choice of locale when it came to Turner-murdering, the genie felt a rush of silly, soft affection for him.

"Come on! Send the kid to Mars. It's a hundred and fifty miles away, or something like that. Just say the word, little buddy. Come on, come on."

"Norm, Norm, Norm, you're overcomplicating things. I've got a very simple plan. It's a plan I like to call, Plan Number 2!" Crocker replied, starting off soft and then exalting more and more as he finished.

"The more time I spend with you," Norm muttered, half-sarcastically, "the more I'm beginning to miss being imprisoned in my lamp."

It was cold and damp and far too close for comfort, but at least in it, things were clear. His "job" was boring, and basically just slavery. The lamp was the suckiest home ever. Humans were idiots and jerks. Turner was the jerkiest of them all. Simple and clear.

In it, he never had to think about the way his heart flipped around a certain two teachers. He didn't have to worry about betraying anyone, breaking anyone's heart. Or whether he should've even cared about Shake-and-Bake. And what Crocker was worth, whether he should've cared about him or not. And the likelihood of Crocker wishing him free when they were done. And why Barry never did.

"First, I wish I had magical painting skills!" said Crocker, breaking Norm out of his thoughts, seemingly oblivious of what the genie had just mumbled. Which sort of made Norm glad, weird as that was.

The genie snapped his fingers, giving Crocker those skills, and a paintbrush and palette to use them with. Understanding the why's of Crocker's two most recent wishes was beyond his ken, but... that didn't matter. It never did. Much as he wished it to be otherwise...

On the rock, Crocker painted Trixie Tang, holding ice cream, with a tunnel behind her. Ah, yes, now things made more sense. But not enough. Just more. But, at least Norm knew now that the sugar hadn't driven him totally loco. Which was good.

Crocker grinned. "Perfect! Now I wish there was a boulder precariously perched at the top of the cliff. And third, I wish for three more wishes."

Norm snapped his fingers, making the boulder appear and giving Crocker the wishes he'd wished for, smiling, his voice a drawl. "Oh, I get it. Turner rushes to see the girl of his dreams and smacks into the wall, and the vibrations are gonna topple the rock."

"Exactly. FAIRIES!" Crocker grinned, his voice light, before spasming.

"Great. If you need me, I'll be over here, waiting for your plan to fail," said Norm, as he floated behind a bush.

"Turner is coming. I'll join you," Crocker replied, sounding unusually happy for someone who'd just been dissed pretty hard.

Norm didn't get it, really, but it made his heart leap in his chest. It was as though Crocker couldn't hate him or something. Like, was physically incapable of doing so. No matter what he did, or how many insults he tossed out. Yeah, Crocker really was crazy.

But his Turner-senses were on the mark.

"Wow, you were right," squeaked the kid's nasally voice. "There really is a desert within easy biking distance of Dimmsdale."

"You hoo, Timmy!" called out Crocker. "It's me, Trixie Tang, a delicate female of your own age group, beckoning to you."

Norm groaned, cursing himself internally for what that made his lovelorn brain imagine: _You hoo, Norm! It's me, Denzel Crocker, a delicate male 49947 years younger than you, beckoning to you._

"Seriously, have you ever even talked to a girl? What kind of idiot would fall for that?" _I mean, other than motherfuckin' me, of course._

Turner, apparently. "Trixie and ice cream? Together and talking to me for the very first time?!"

He sped towards the cliff wall, making Norm feel absolutely electric with excitement and flushed with pride. Craziness and genius were connected, after all.

Or... not.

Turner actually entered the wall and continued down the road painted on it, managing to pick up Tang and the ice cream while he was at it.

"No! That's impossible!" Crocker practically screamed, running to the wall. He then patted it, saying, "Oh no! I'm not falling for that old trick. I'll get you, Timmy Turner! I'll get you and your... FAIRY GODPARENTS!"

On the last two words, Crocker, as was customary, broke out into spasms, his body flipping around and knocking into the wall hard, causing the precariously perched boulder to fall. Just as expected. Only minus Turner.

Norm GONGed himself over to Crocker with an umbrella, handing it to him, saying, "You might need this."

Crocker took it and opened it, holding it over him. Then, the boulder landed on him, and he screamed. And Norm wondered if that meant everyone was right when they called him a "filthy genie."

But that didn't stop the quip from coming out. "See, it's that type of thing that screams, 'I live with my mother."

_**1971**_

_The genie had thought and thought and thought. A lot. And went to a few countries, fucked a few people, had a few baths... fun stuff like that. Okay, the thinking definitely wasn't that fun. More like scary. The conclusion certainly was: he'd fallen for Birk, his damn master, and wasn't gonna get up anytime soon. He could try to become sensible again, but he just didn't see it working. Unless Shake-and-Bake randomly decided to become an axe-murderer or something like that, at least. That'd do it for sure. _

_Problem was: that hippie was no axe-murderer._

_He had flaws, yeah, but none of them were that big or egregious. And Norm's cock was raring for action..._

_GONG!_

"_Hey, Shake-and-Bake, hey, I'm back!"_

_Barry jumped up out of the lying position that he was in on his bed, and ran to Norm, hugging him tightly, grinning widely and brightly. "So, man, how'd your vision quest work out?"_

_Norm tried to restrain his laughter, but failed. "So, 'vision quest': turns out that you're the Tony to my Jeannie. I mean, well, if ya wanna be... if what we had wasn't just a drunken fling that ya regret now..."_

"_What's with you and that show, man?" Barry replied, a laugh in his voice. "Seriously? And yeah, man, I wanna be. Like, who wouldn't?"_

"_You'd be surprised," the genie muttered, sighing. "You'd be really, really surprised."_

"_I guess I would..." replied Barry, his voice flat. "Not that it matters. You've got me now. Okay, not got. Not really."_

"_And that means?" The genie's tone dripped with poison._

_Barry shrunk under Norm's hurt gaze. "Are ya up for free love?"_

"_Free love? It's a hippie philosophy about fuckin' a ton of people and not gettin' married, yeah?"_

_Barry nodded, still quivering. "That's pretty close to it, yeah."_

_Norm smirked. "Fuck yeah, I'm up for it, babe! I practically practice it already."_

_The redhead snorted. "Oh, I know, genie-man."_

After being driven crazy by Crocker so much, it was only fair that the genie got to do it back to him. That, and he liked hot tubs.

"Hey, Crockpot, wanna come in? The water's fine," Norm said, his voice casual, leering at the other man.

"No. I can't relax now, Norm, I haven't got Timmy Turner's FAIRY GODPARENTS!"

"Well, your loss, Crockpot," Norm said, his voice as flat as he could make it. "Your loss. And you know, crazypants, that having a hot tub won't make your ideas suddenly suck more or anything, right?"

"I CAN'T BE DISTRACTED FROM MY SCHEMES, NORM!"

The genie let out a long breath, and said, "Fine. So, what's your next scheme, then? Making the moon fall on top of Turner?"

"No, but... interesting idea, Norm," Crocker answered. "I'll note it down somewhere and credit you it to you!"

"I'm really flattered, honestly, but please don't..." Norm groaned. "And what the heck is your next plan, again?"

Crocker pulled out a blueprint from... Norm didn't know where actually, but he certainly pulled it out with a flourish, saying, "THIS! I wish everything on this blueprint would appear and/or happen right now."

Norm looked down at the blueprint, pursing and licking in his lips in thought as he did. "You sure about that, Crockpot? I mean, this scheme looks a few senses short of sensible..."

"Trust me, Norm, it will work."

"You said that about your last two plans, and look what happened. Turner lived, and so we're tryin' all over again."

Crocker didn't budge.

"Oh, fine..." Norm whined, granting the wish in a snap of his fingers. "But don't say I didn't warn ya."

"It'll work out fine, Norm, trust me."

The genie snorted. "Yeah right. Is there anything else I need to do?"

"CAMERAS! I WISH FOR CAMERAS SO WE CAN VIEW OUR SCHEME FROM IN HERE! AND A TON OF TV MONITORS!"

Norm produced the cameras and the TV monitors with a snap of his fingers, relieved that Crocker's omission of them from the blueprint probably had a reasonable explanation (namely, he didn't have a genie that could GONG them all up for him in a blink of an eye when he made the plan, and constructing and placing them as well as the actual Turner-killers would have taken a lot of his time). He doubted that he'd be able to bear it if there was no way in which even some of the Crocker's actions made some kind of sense. And that he'd have gotten his heart all screwed up over him if that was so. So, unbearable craziness: maybe not that bad, after all...

"Is everything set up for my new plan that I call 'Crockadoodle-doom'?" Crocker asked, crowing like a rooster on the last two words.

"Unfortunately." Norm groaned. "The back door to Colonel Hartman's Dimmsdale Fried Chicken is open. The glue sprayers are in place. The pillow shredders are primed. And the rubber glove machine is set. Oh, and the easy 'wish him to Mars' suggestion is, once again, ignored." _By the way, I know a much more fun way to shred pillows..._

"Fabulous! Then it's time to power up the giant magnet," replied Crocker, doing so. "Now, Turner, step into view wearing even the slightest amount of metal and be pulled to your Deep Fried Doom!" He laughed and spasmed. "FAIRIES!" Then he took another look at Turner's house, zooming in. "Wait a second! Where are the roller skates? They're the key to the whole plan! Must I do everything?"

Norm replied, "That thing on your neck. Is that your ear?"

Which was as relevant to the subject as Crocker's last question, Norm knew, and yet probably explained a lot. Like, maybe Crocker heard "send Timmy to Mars" as "tend to Jiminy Cricket's SARS," or "lend Slim Shady some stars." He just didn't know. But Crocker refused to answer, or perhaps didn't hear the question.

"I wish I had rollerskates! And three more wishes!"

GONG!

Roller skates and three more wishes.

As Crocker left, he made a sound of disgust and muttered, "The only way to do things right is to do them myself!"

Finally, he reached the mat in front of Turner's door, and began to set the roller skates down. Then, the totally expected happened: as Crocker did so, he said, "I hope I'm not wearing any-" and before he could finish the sentence, the magnet pulled hard on him, whooshing him away, through the gauntlet of fried chicken inspired tortures they had prepared for Turner. "METAL!"

And it turned out that Turner and his fairies had went to the DFC already, by a much more normal method, enabling them to observe Crocker's humiliation as they ate and comment on it.

Norm grinned, straightening his back and then laying his head on some of Crocker's controls. "I take that back. I like this plan. I'm excited to be a part of it."

_So, ya like screwing over the people ya love, huh? No wonder Shake-and-Bake wanted ya gone... no fuckin' wonder. Filthy genie._

_**1971**_

_Norm was in what he considered to be a very unusual state. Nervousness. He'd never met Barry's fellow hippies before. Because he was just the genie - or at least he and Barry had stubbornly tried to keep that facade up - back then. Now, he was the boyfriend, and that change in status apparently meant an upgrade for his social life._

_He walked into the tent, Barry alongside him._

_"I, like, have a boyfriend now. That's him. His name's N-"_

_The genie cut him off. "Sunflower Foxtrot."_

_Barry's face screwed up in confusion, but the other hippies just grinned and laughed companionably and said words of welcome. The genie smirked and winked at his boyfriend, who responded with a small smile once he understood. Norm assumed that was what the smile was about, anyway._

"_So..." butted in one of the other hippies, his gaze directed at Barry. "Are ya gonna share?"_

_Barry bit his lip. "Well, ya could've waited a bit longer to ask that, but yeah, free love still applies, we agreed about that."_

"_Hey, hey, hey, why'd ya ask him?" Norm asked. "Doesn't what I think of this 'sharing' thing count? I mean, I'm totally up for it, but... dude, I don't belong to him, do I?"_

_They all made a noncommittal "mmm" sound, nodding. Barry giggled into his hand, causing Norm to aim a scorching glare at him. Yes, there was irony. No, it was not a laughing matter. Unless, he, Norm the Genie himself, chose to joke about it. Or another genie did. He sighed. Barry glared back at him._

"_So, uh, guys..." Barry sputtered out, a faint blush in his cheeks. "Can ya lay off... Foxy?"_

"_Are ya jealous?" One of them teased. "By the way, Foxy, mind throwing some free love my way?"_

_Most of the others echoed the sentiment. _

"_Uh, guys, are ya trying to give me no time for actual sleeping? 'Cause... damn, there are a lot of ya. I'm not surprised, but..."_

_They laughed, some of them blushing, some saying, "Oh, of course not..." _

_Norm heard Barry sigh, and he frowned, not getting it. This all was his idea, after all, right?_

"_Hey, guys, how about you form an orderly queue or something?" suggested Norm. "You know, so I can get to you easier."_

"_Alright. That'd work," one of them responded. "I mean, if there was more room in this tent or we went partly outside, at least..."_

"_So, I guess I'll choose the order, than," Norm said, sighing. "Raise your hand if ya wanna have sex with me."_

_Most of the hands were raised, and Barry's was one of them. The genie bit his lip. How the heck could he possibly choose?_

_Well, at least there were some he could eliminate from his list pretty quickly, mostly because they were too dirty, just not attractive to him or had a quality that was one of his turn-offs. But seven still remained. Eight, if he included Barry, who was just so damn obvious that he didn't even count. Which, he had to admit, was pretty weird. _

_He pointed at a blonde. "You first."_

_Barry's frown deepened, and Norm winked in his direction, hoping to be comforting. But he didn't seem to feel much better because of it._

_The dame lunged at Norm, and started undoing his buttons, while everyone watched. And as his clothes came off, the genie wondered if he was a bastard in some way he just didn't get._

Norm had anticipated that Crocker's chicken-themed escapade would hurt him, but he found that he had underestimated how much. But he wasn't dead, so Norm supposed that he had, somehow, also overestimated that.

Instead, he was really bruised up - which the genie had expected - and covered in hives - which he really hadn't - and his skin was a ruddy orange, as opposed to its usual greyish tone. Yet, his misadventure had brought an improvement in at least one area: scent. Usually, Crocker just smelt unwashed or - at the most - just, well, washed. Not perfumed or delicious or like something absurdly poetic. Just like a human that sometimes bathed.

After that failed plan, however...

Norm had trouble stopping himself from licking his lips. And licking Crocker. Luckily, he was able to stop himself from the second, even as he failed at the first. Though, knowing Crocker, he might happen to regard that as appropriate social contact between a genie and its master. Then again, despite his nuttiness, Crocker was not totally out there. He had limits to it. Limits which probably included going 'what the fuck' like any other person would do if their genie decided that it was time to lick on them. Some things just had to be consigned to fantasies. Unless...

Unless, well, he dropped his facade, confessed his amorous longings to Crocker, and happened to have them reflected by the other man. And if after all of that, it did not just become a new way to exploit him, more insidious than any before and any since.

Crocker himself, fortunately, interrupted those thoughts, with an, "Apparently, I'm allergic to all seventeen secret spices!" Screech. "And fire!" Another screech.

Norm reluctantly crossed DFC off his list of Places to Go on a Date with Crockpot (As If That'd Ever Happen, But..), and resigned himself to the sexy smell being an one-time thing - unless of course, Crocker or some other enterprising inventor came up with fried-chicken cologne. But that was really unlikely. Fairies were more Crocker's field of interest, and despite the anarchically persistent stereotypes, there likely wasn't a race of people just waiting to become the market for such an odd perfume. But, magic. That was what magic was for: creating things that few sane people would build out of real materials, and wouldn't have a market if they were mass-produced. That wasn't its only use, of course, but... it was the relevant one there.

Despite all that thought, Norm couldn't help but reply, "But you smell delicious!"

Which he covered up the legitimacy of a second later with his often-practiced evil laugh. That he had practiced so much because it made Barry smile and giggle and hug him closer, considering the notion of Norm as an evil person to be completely ridiculous. Oh, how he missed that man, even with Crocker right beside him.

"Silence! Your plans keep failing! What kind of genie are you?"

"The losing-its-patience kind."

Crocker, patting Norm, replied, "There, there, Norm. It isn't entirely your fault. I have something that might cheer you up." Crocker opened up the head of a stone sculpture of himself and pressed the button underneath. "To the Crocker Cave!"

The floor dropped out from beneath them, causing them both to fall down. Crocker reached the bottom first, where he pulled out an unnecessary pink mattress. He then went to the right, towards what looked like a big garage door, which he pulled all the way up, exposing a gigantic vault.

"I know my first few plans didn't work but I don't want you to worry, Norm, old buddy, old pal, I have plenty more."

And he was not lying. Inside the vault, there were tons of boxes and filing cabinets, all filled to their brims with paper, all labeled with variations on "evil schemes." The genie couldn't help but wonder how Crocker had time to teach. Or eat. Or sleep. He had to be skimping out on something, that was for sure. In the end, though, Norm was certain, it would all come to naught. He would be able to hang out with his crush for a long time, without raising awkward questions, but...

Shake-and-Bake, for one. Not that Norm expected him to find out - though it was a possibility. More like, if he kept Crocker, no matter how, Norm was sure, he'd always feel like he'd betrayed Barry - even though, really, it was Shake-and-Bake who'd committed the real wrong. As though he could convince himself of that, fully and entirely, enough to give him up, as easy as he'd been given up.

So, Norm went in a GONG, leaving his ally for his enemy.

"Norm the Genie! What are you doing here?"

Good question. Too bad it didn't have an easy answer. Well, he supposed, that was what lying was for.

"I came here for my revenge!" The genie followed that up with an evil laugh, hoping to give his lie an air of authenticity, even though, really, evil laughs were as fake as many celebrity's breasts. But... Turner probably knew nothing of the fakeness of both, so...

And whaddya know? It worked. Wanda thrust herself in front of Turner, issuing a challenge. Cosmo was rather less courageous, but his intent - to protect Turner - was the same as hers.

"Let me finish," Norm replied. "I came here for my revenge but that idiot Crocker is driving me crazy. You gotta help me, man. Here's my lamp."

The genie passed it to Turner, and then circled around him. "Hey, look at that! Whaddya know? Now you get three wishes. And if you don't mind, I have a suggestion..."

_**2002**_

"_This can't go on," Barry muttered, pacing the floor of his trailer, looking down._

_Norm whooshed closer to him and ducked down until his face was in his boyfriend's field of vision. "What can't? And why haven't ya told me about it yet, man? You know how effective I can be against your problems, right?"_

"_Not if that's the problem," he replied, voice low and muffled._

"_It doesn't sound like a problem, but okay..." The genie's brow wrinkled._

"_Well, it is." The three words were dropped bluntly onto Norm, causing him to move back a few paces in shock. _

"_Still not gettin' it..."_

"_Figured you wouldn't," Barry replied, his voice dark and bitter. "Effin' figured."_

"_Well, what can I do about this bizarre little problem of yours?"_

_Barry paused for a while. "Nothing, and I don't deserve your help, anyway. And I can't continue to cheat my way through life with you."_

_Norm gulped. "Uh, what did ya mean by that?"_

"_What did ya think I meant?"_

"_Well... it didn't sound good."_

_Barry sighed, tears flowing from his eyes. "Norm, I wish..." He choked up, and tried again. "I wish... I wish you were back in your lamp and I had no more wishes!"_

_Norm's breath stopped in his throat. "The fuck? Why? No! Take it back!"_

"_Sorry, Norm," Barry replied, voice low. "It was the only thing I could do, and now I've done it, it can't be taken back." _

"_You coulda set me free, that would've worked." Norm's voice was bitter as he snapped his fingers, causing a cyclone of smoke to extend up from his lamp and suck up at him._

"_You sure about that, man? You sure that ya would be able to stop yourself from helpin' me in secret if I did that..."_

_The vacuum suction of Norm's lamp had consumed his tail by that point, and the genie was trying his best to stop it from getting at anything above it. "Well, no..."_

"_See?"_

"_Nope." The smoke began to extend to his sash and then his chest, getting stronger as it sucked up more and more of Norm. "Not like it even matters anymore... not like it mattered before..."_

_Finally, it had gotten at all of him, sucking fast and strong, down down down into his own personal hell, reducing him from a lover to a slave. _

_And all Barry did was look on, crying. Only once it was done, did he speak, "Knowing ya, ya'll find someone else. Someone better."_

_To that, Norm replied, muttering, "Yeah right..." Whether Barry heard, well, that he just didn't know._


End file.
